The Perks of Being Jivy
by dendriticgold
Summary: Jimmy's pursuit of Ivy has unexpected (and highly welcome) consequences for his concealed relationship with Thomas. Pairing: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent. Warnings for slash with a little BDSM.


**THE PERKS OF BEING JIVY**

'I think I'm going to ask Ivy to walk out with me.'

Thomas glanced over at Jimmy with a raised eyebrow. 'Does that mean I should put my trousers back on?' He said dryly, reaching for the small towel beside the washbasin to dry his face.

'No.' Jimmy purred, folding his shirt neatly and laying it down on Thomas's desk before attending to his underwear.

As usual he found Thomas watching him intently as he discarded the final layers; as usual he answered his shameless voyeur with a wink.

'So…' Thomas allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the firm flesh on show before returning to the matter at hand. '…Why are you thinking about asking Ivy out?'

'Well I think people are starting to notice…' Jimmy's voice trailed off as Thomas completed his evening wash and moved to stand facing him; his arms crossed over his ribs, covering none of the temptations to be found both above and below, as he rested his hip lightly against the bureau.

'Notice what Jimmy?' Said Thomas in mock innocence, his lips quirking in amusement at Jimmy's inability to keep his eyes at a respectable level.

'Um…' The tip of Jimmy's tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips as he fought to tear his eyes away from the highly distracting sight before him. '…You know bloody well what!' He finally added with a laugh, turning away from Thomas to finish arranging his clothes so as to leave the minimum of creases for him to deal with in the morning. 'So I thought I'd ask Ivy out to throw them off.'

'Or you could just stop staring like a daft puppy. And stop sitting next to me every chance you get.' Said Thomas dryly, his eyes tracing the line of Jimmy's back in profile in the low lamplight.

'No chance.' Said Jimmy, smiling to himself.

Thomas frowned, his eyes moving up to Jimmy's face. 'Are you actually serious?'

'Well why not?' Said Jimmy, still occupied with laying out his clothes neatly for the morning.

'Well let's see shall we…?' Thomas said, speaking in hushed tones for effect as much as the need for quiet in the painfully thin-walled room, creeping up behind Jimmy. He slid a hand slowly between Jimmy's legs, taking his balls in hand to firmly massage them with his fingers. Jimmy let out an approving murmur, abandoning his attention to his clothes to lean his head back onto Thomas's shoulder, aroused as much by the wrist forcing him to maintain a small (and desperately tantalizing) spread of his legs as by the fingers caressing and tugging at him. 'Maybe I like having you all to myself…' Thomas whispered into Jimmy's ear.

'Yeah, and me walking out with Ivy will make it safer for us to spend time together.' Jimmy said in between soft moans, distracted by the conundrum of whether or not to beg Thomas to move his attentions on to his penis.

'You learning to keep the noise down would be more useful. You realise that you taking Ivy out won't help a bit if anyone comes in and sees you like this…? Thomas drawled teasingly, giving a particularly vigorous squeeze.

'Oh…' It was a good couple of seconds before Jimmy could actually form words. 'I'll just say it's a medical exam.' He replied, somehow managing to keep his usual mischievous tone despite being near breathless at Thomas's attentions.

'Then I'd best take your pulse Mr Kent.' Said Thomas softly, bringing his lips to Jimmy's throat.

'Oh…definitely…' Jimmy closed his eyes, face upturned to the ceiling, as Thomas kissed gently at his throat. 'Oh yes…' Jimmy whispered as Thomas parted his lips to give a languid lick to his neck before bringing his lips back to Jimmy's skin, sucking a little before running the tender skin through his teeth. 'Oh…' The small noises emitting from Jimmy's mouth became completely incomprehensible, barely vowel sounds let alone words, as Thomas began to tend more vigorously to his neck, all the while maintaining his attention to Jimmy's balls, making Jimmy quite incapable of maintaining attention to _anything_. That is, until they broke apart.

'Oh my God!' Jimmy exclaimed, pulling away from Thomas (who thankfully released his hold on him just in time) to inspect his reflection in the mirror. The skin at the side of his neck, still slicked with Thomas's saliva, was already turning an alarming shade of purple. 'You…' Jimmy turned around to challenge Thomas, who was trying his best not to laugh. 'You did this on purpose!' Jimmy peered into the mirror, stretching his skin first one way then the other. 'This'll probably show above my collar, you bastard!' He said, whipping around to find himself face to face with a (very) amused Thomas Barrow. 'Oh you…!' It only took a few moments for Jimmy's face to crease into a grin as well. 'You sod!' He laughed, taking hold of Thomas's shoulders.

'Just so Ivy knows what's mine.' Thomas teased, allowing Jimmy to maneuver him back towards the bed; falling onto it when the backs of his shins unexpectedly connected with the mattress. 'Maybe she'll lend you some of her powder to cover it…'

'Oh you're going to get it now, Mr Barrow.' Said Jimmy, standing over him.

'Been waiting to hear that all day…' Thomas replied, sliding further onto the bed, inviting Jimmy to join him.

The next morning, with his tie done up tighter than it had ever been before in his life, and his head held slightly less high than usual, Jimmy sat sheepishly at the breakfast table; panicking every time someone appeared in his close peripheral vision in case they should notice Thomas's handiwork creeping incriminatingly up his neck.

Thomas was sat immediately to his side at the table, so that shielded the worst of it from public view.

Although Jimmy was left to wonder how he would survive the day (or more accurately, the beady eyes of the household) for as long as it would take for the bruise to go down. And should they notice, whom would they credit as the most likely suspect?

More than ever, his plan seemed like a good one.

He had made a point of sitting next to Thomas at breakfast, and made purposeful eye contact with him as Ivy had walked in with the food to ensure Thomas was left in no doubt as to his intentions, giving him a final chance to object if he truly wanted to. If he had, he would have listened.

He didn't.

'So I hear you asked Ivy out?' Thomas's abrupt question almost shocked Jimmy into dropping the tablecloth he was replacing in the downstairs linen closet that evening.

'You could scare a man creeping around like that, Mr Barrow.' Said Jimmy, glancing past Thomas through the closet door and into the empty corridor outside.

Thomas responded by flicking on the light switch and stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

'So I hear you asked Ivy out.' Thomas repeated, this time not a question, although there was still an air of amused disbelief about it.

'What's it to you?' Jimmy said with a sly wink, finally succeeding in getting the tablecloth into it's prescribed spot on the shelf.

'You asked her out to the pub.' Thomas said flatly, the amusement suddenly gone from his words and expression.

'Yes.' Said Jimmy, surprised by the sudden change in Thomas and reading in his eyes that it was most definitely not the right moment to tease. 'It was the first thing that came to mind when I saw her this afternoon.' He said with a shrug.

'You going to be buying her drinks?' Said Thomas.

'Yes, Thomas, because I invited her to a pub.' Jimmy replied, unable to keep a hint of ill temper from his voice. He relented a little at the sight of the hurt in Thomas's eyes. 'You know I haven't got the foggiest idea about taking women out.' Said Jimmy softly.

'I still question your need to take them out at all.' Thomas responded tersely.

'I'm sorry…' Said Jimmy, leaning back against the shelves to rub at his forehead. '…you were laughing last night, I didn't realise you felt so strongly about it.'

'I don't.' Said Thomas, jutting his nose into the air with all the subtlety and guile of a three year old.

Jimmy sighed. 'Well obviously you do.' He carefully swept his fingers over his hair line in case he had disturbed it while kneading at his forehead. 'But can we talk about this when I get back from the pub tonight? I've got to help serve the dinner in an hour.'

'No I think I need some time with you now.' Said Thomas softly, taking a few steps forwards to crowd into Jimmy's personal space.

Jimmy hadn't realised his stubborn wish to maintain composure until AFTER an absurdly wanton gasp emitted itself from his mouth as his breath caught in his throat at Thomas's approach. But the urge to kick himself soon faded as the highly distracting prospect of Thomas's body heat just inches from his own clouded his mind and senses.

Thomas's lips in particular, slightly open to reveal the wetness of his mouth, his breath hot against Jimmy's face, were irresistibly tempting.

But as Jimmy rocked forwards a little on the balls of his feet to close the distance between their mouths, he found firm hands on his waist holding him back.

'Thomas…' He whispered, a plea as much as an apology, still close enough to feel Thomas's breath on his lips.

'Oh I don't think a boy who takes out other people deserves a kiss…' Thomas said, his voice low and rough. Jimmy's jaw twitched in surprise as one of Thomas's hands released it's hold on his hips to make the short journey across to the front of his trousers. '…do you?' Thomas murmured, giving Jimmy an unhurried and firm stroke through the fabric.

As so often happened the moment Thomas touched him (anywhere, through any amount of clothing) Jimmy momentarily lost the ability to vocalise.

'Do you?' Thomas repeated wickedly, his lips curling into a smile as he cupped his palm around Jimmy's rapidly hardening penis for a more targeted grope.

'Uh!' Jimmy exclaimed, clamping his lips shut, biting at them through both embarrassment and the need for absolute silence. He nodded vigorously, finding himself eager to play this particular game, the imminent dinner for the moment forgotten.

He panted with increasing rapidity, still tortured by the lack of Thomas's lips (so close and yet stubbornly unobtainable), as Thomas continued to stroke him, pressing him back against the shelves with the other hand still firmly on his waist.

Jimmy was surprised to note the heat and pressure at his front building so quickly under Thomas's touch. The chance of discovery, Thomas's evident strop, the fact there was only an hour until dinner, not to mention the annoyance of the love bite chaffing at his collar, should have combined to make the chances of an orgasm rather slight. Yet suddenly, after being frustrated at yet again being repulsed from his efforts to kiss Thomas, Jimmy found his orgasm almost imminent.

'Please kiss me Thomas.' Said Jimmy desperately, craning his head upwards as far as it could go.

Thomas merely allowed their eyes to meet for the briefest of moments before looking cheekily back downwards.

'Thomas you know tonight doesn't mean anything. Not a thing.' Jimmy gasped out. 'You know I'm all yours. In every way.' He let out an involuntary moan, so very very close. 'Please.'

Jimmy's euphoria as Thomas relented almost clouded the rush of release as their lips met; at first deliberately light, gentle and shallow at Thomas's leading, and then, with Jimmy riding the high of orgasm and almost close to tears in frustration, finally the deep and needful contact the latter craved.

'Goodness…' Jimmy eventually gasped with a small laugh as they broke apart. '…that was something!'

'Indeed.' Said Thomas, smiling in amusement in a way that had Jimmy slightly unnerved now that he was paying proper attention.

'Suppose I'd better sneak past Carson and head upstairs for a bit of a clean-up.' Said Jimmy, glancing down at the perfectly pristine black fabric of his trousers that concealed a sticky and rapidly drying mess inside his underwear.

'Oh dear…did I forget to mention the news?' Said Thomas, his smile growing. 'Dinner has been moved forwards by half an hour. So actually…' He whipped out the watch from his waistcoat. '…by my reckoning they'll be expecting you in the kitchen now.'

Thomas stayed just long enough to see the look on Jimmy's face before giving a small bow and excusing himself from the closet.

The dinner service was hard.

Standing at the side of the dining room a short while later, a bite on his neck and a mess in his trousers, Jimmy found (somewhat to his surprise) his blushes weren't _all_ the result of discomfort.

He couldn't quite decide if the moment would rank as one of the worst or best in his life upon reflection.

Yes he was having trouble concentrating, and yes Alfred was giving him evil looks (not to mention close scrutiny after his invitation to Ivy), but every time Jimmy's gaze strayed over to Thomas he was overtaken with a powerful feeling of warmth in his belly and his constant consciousness of the physical evidence of Thomas's attentions sent electrical currents directly to his crotch.

He found himself wanting to take his clothes off and show the whole room what Thomas had done.

Oh yes, the dinner service was hard.

Much later that night, change of clothes (and a hasty rub with the wash-cloth) later, not to mention a long stroll down a dark country road, Jimmy nursed his fourth pint across the table from Ivy.

She was also on her fourth pint.

Jimmy knew Thomas would be waiting for him on their return, and consequently he was very eager to do so.

But another part of him wanted to keep Thomas waiting.

So he kept buying the drinks, kept talking rubbish, and only consented to begin the walk home once the landlord had sounded a second call for 'last' orders. He glanced at the clock in the pub before they left, noting it was well past midnight.

'He'll be furious…' He whispered to himself, his eyes dancing mischievously in the moonlight as his pulse quickened in anticipation of something he still hadn't quite fully defined or mentally processed, but that he knew he wanted.

'He's a what?' Ivy mumbled, tipping sideways, perilously close to the ditch at the side of the road, unable to accomplish the task of both talking and walking at the same time in her drunken state.

'Shit!' As Jimmy grabbed for her he suddenly became aware, as the line of nearby trees swam in front of his eyes in the semi-dark, that he was also quite 'three sheets to the wind' himself.

But somehow he managed to get her back upright, and keep her there, for the long trudge back to Downton.

The potent arousal and anticipation that had lingered since dinner and on throughout the deliberately late night in the pub drained quite away as they walked, leaving him feeling more fatigued than anything else.

When she collapsed next to the back door and began to heave up the majority of the large number of drinks he had (in hindsight, misguidedly) purchased for her, Jimmy wasn't sure whether to wish she had gotten it out of her system earlier on in the walk or whether to praise the Lord that she had waited until they got to Downton.

A quick dash through the servant's hall later and a little help from Alfred and Anna and, not entirely unexpectedly, some harsh words from the former, Jimmy found himself free to stagger and sway up the staircase.

The light was off in Thomas's room. Or at least he hoped it was Thomas's room, he couldn't quite be sure in his present state, but he knew at least that it wasn't Carson's room; and anyone else would most likely forgive him for accidentally barging after losing count of the number of doors since the stairs in the almost pitch darkness of the attic.

It _was_ Thomas's room.

The moonlight coming in from the window was a welcome sight to Jimmy's strained eyes, allowing him to pick out Thomas's form on the bed, but he soon found himself temporarily blinded as Thomas sat up and flicked on the lamp.

'Hello…' He said, for want of a better greeting.

Thomas nodded past him and towards the open door.

'Oh right.' Jimmy quickly closed it before turning back to Thomas.

Thomas didn't say anything, just gave a weary sigh and looked pointedly at the small clock on the mantelpiece.

'Sorry I'm so late.' Jimmy said quietly. 'Hope you weren't waiting up for me.'

Thomas flopped back down against the pillows.

With a sniff, Jimmy shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the chair by the door before discarding the rest of his clothes on the desk in their usual spot (although his attempts at folding were a little haphazard in his tipsiness).

Tentatively he crept towards the bed, sliding in under the covers behind Thomas.

After a pause he wrapped an arm around Thomas's waist, feeling the other man go briefly tense and then relax against him, and prepared himself for some much needed sleep.

But he couldn't sleep.

'Jimmy, I find myself somewhat unable to sleep…'

And evidently Thomas couldn't either, speaking in a drawling voice as though announcing the punch line to some marvelously droll joke as he shifted about to face Jimmy.

'Me neither.' Said Jimmy softly. 'Must have been all those insightful and thought provoking conversations I had with Ivy tonight…' He said dryly.

'Mmmm.' Thomas murmured. 'Or the beer.'

'Well there was that too…'

'Do you fancy a bit, Jimmy?' Said Thomas suddenly.

Jimmy blinked, suddenly very awake. Something in his dim recollection of the events earlier that evening cautioned that saying 'Yes' would be to agree to a little more than the usual fare on this particular occasion.

He said 'Yes', naturally.

'Turn over then.' Said Thomas, after bestowing the briefest of kisses, pushing himself up into a sitting position at the side of the bed to allow Jimmy to maneuver more into the center.

Jimmy obligingly turned over onto his stomach, finding himself tugged up to rest on his hands and knees a short while later.

As he felt Thomas's fingers tracing a familiar path down the cleft of his buttocks Jimmy couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at the sheer normalcy of the moment. He had rather been hoping for a bit more…what, exactly? He wasn't sure. But feeling Thomas's fingers patiently working him open while he waited in a position they had fucked in many times before certainly wasn't 'it'.

Still, he resolved to make the best of it.

And it was rather pleasant. He enjoyed the feeling of Thomas's thighs brushing against the sensitive backs of his own as Thomas lined up to penetrate him. And the way Thomas's torso curved down over his back, one hand briefly managing to entwine with Jimmy's, was a wonderful antidote to the lingering chill in his bones from the long walk in the night air.

Before long Jimmy had quite forgotten that he had deemed the encounter in any way lacking.

The two of them moved together, perfectly practiced, with no near misses or otherwise awkward moments to contend with, merely a predictably comfortable rhythm that let them each loose themselves in the sensations.

'More, Thomas.' Jimmy half-ordered, half-begged, as he began to feel the weightless contraction in his organs and extremities that signaled the approach to the point of no return. 'More.'

For a short while he got precisely what he wanted, just enough to almost take him to the brink.

Then everything stopped.

'Thomas…what?' Jimmy panted, his throat (among other things) still contracted in anticipation of the release that hadn't come.

Not only did Thomas not answer, he actually went as far as to climb off the bed.

'Thomas!' Jimmy said, feeling a rising panic at the sight of Thomas's sullen figure over by the bureau. 'Please. Is this about Ivy? Thomas, you have absolutely nothing to fear. You're the one I want, not her. You know that.' He babbled, unable to come up with anything more elegant by way of declarations of feeling or intent as his body screamed for stimulation.

Thomas didn't respond right away. Instead he stayed for a moment by the bureau.

'Thomas are you alright?' Said Jimmy gently, pulling himself up into a hunched position, wincing at the discomfort of unsatisfied arousal.

When Thomas eventually turned back around Jimmy was confused to note he had his hairbrush in hand, a medium sized thing with an oval head, something Jimmy knew Thomas never actually used for his hair (preferring instead the small, handle-less brush, or alternatively small-toothed comb, that offered greater precision of styling) so he was at first confused as to precisely why Thomas had chosen that brush, let alone THAT moment, to suddenly attend to his hair.

But Thomas _didn'_t brush his hair.

Instead he sat back on the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor.

'Thomas…?'

'Get over my knee.' Said Thomas.

'I…what?' Jimmy stared at him.

'Get over my knee.' Thomas repeated, patting his thigh for emphasis, his speech hauntingly gentle.

'You want me to…?' Suddenly, as Jimmy's eyes settled on the hairbrush, he got it.

It would be hard to say whether his face or his crotch was left the more hot and flushed by the realisation. 'Oh.'

Thomas simply watched him, and waited; a hint of challenge in his eyes.

'Alright then.' Jimmy said, unable to summon anything other than the weakest of voices as he crawled over to Thomas, having to step off the bed entirely in order to bend himself forwards over Thomas's legs as directed.

It left him in a very ungainly and undignified position, toes and fingers both pressed against the floor with his rear in the air, his erect and painfully over sensitized penis trapped between Thomas's thighs (Thomas's erection pressed against his hip), as his face and body continued to burn.

He wasn't quite sure what he was hoping for.

Without preamble the back of the hairbrush connected smartly with his hide.

'Ah!' Jimmy shouted, he couldn't help it.

Thomas brought his spare hand up to cup over Jimmy's mouth before landing the next smack, not so much forcing silence as giving Jimmy the option to press into it if required. And he did; the next sound coming out far more muffled. As did the next.

Jimmy found the situation almost too much to process. There was his awkward posture, the embarrassing exposure, the increasing sting at his rear, the frustrating arousal all over (particularly his penis which moved between the press of Thomas's thighs each time he jerked away from the brush), and the desperate wish to have Thomas touch him again.

'How are you feeling Jimmy?' Said Thomas, resting the cool wooden back of the brush briefly against the flaming skin of Jimmy's buttocks. 'Is there a particular number of these I should be giving you?'

Jimmy drew his mouth back from Thomas's hand and exhaled shakily. 'Whatever you think is best.' He said, his eyes watering.

He relaxed a little in relief at the sound of the brush clattering to the floor.

'I think that's more than enough of that.' Said Thomas softly, running his fingers lightly over the curve of Jimmy's rear before dipping them down into his cleft.

'Can you stand this…?' Said Thomas, sliding his middle two fingers slowly inside. '…or is it too painful for me to be touching you here?' He continued, his thumb and other fingers lingering over the pink marks left by the brush.

'More, Thomas.' Came the simple reply. 'Now.'

A short while later, sucking the fingers of one of Thomas's hands into his mouth while the others stroked him from inside between his buttocks, his penis deliciously constrained between Thomas's thighs to rub against them each time he moved, Jimmy found himself planning, as he rocked back and forth across Thomas's lap, to kiss Ivy as soon as humanly possible.

And to make sure Thomas saw it.


End file.
